


Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

by leiascully



Series: Ginger At Last: Lady Twelve and River Explore the Universe [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/F, Female Doctor (Doctor Who), Gender Roles, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-11
Updated: 2011-07-11
Packaged: 2017-10-21 10:31:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a bit disconcerting when the Doctor wakes up as a woman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: N/A (future regeneration)  
> Pairing: River/Twelfth Lady!Doctor  
> Concrit: Welcome  
> A/N: You know what song this is (thank you, Bowie, the Doctor is a very different man this time indeed). For the gender play square on my **kink_bingo** square - obviously a little more focused on what might be heteronormative ideas, but bear with the Doctor, she's very new to not being a man, and please note that they're not necessarily _my_ ideas. **coffeesuperhero** is a peach for always making my stories better.  
>  Disclaimer: _Doctor Who_ and all related characters are the property of Russell T. Davies, Stephen Moffat, and BBC. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

It is a bit disconcerting when the Doctor wakes up as a woman. River doesn't seem at all fazed, however.

"Hello, sweetie," she says warmly.

"What happened?" the Doctor asks. Her voice is much higher than she's used to, or at least it feels higher. She clears her throat. No Adam's apple. Strange. She strokes her neck and then clutches at her hair, trying to drag it around in front of her eyes. It's still fairly short, at least, which is good, because she's not sure she owns a hairbrush. "Ah! Ginger at last."

"And very fetching it looks on you," River tells her. "Fortunately, I've had a few days to get used to it while you were unconscious. I'm not sure what happened, really, but the TARDIS called me. I haven't had a chance to ask her what went on. You were passed out when I got here, still all glowy. I imagine you were trying to be clever. I've got no idea where we are in our timelines. It was all I could do to get you to bed."

The Doctor is feeling her new face. Nose, still rather pointy. Ears, smaller, thank heavens. Cheeks smooth, hair silky, lips ever-so-slightly pouty. Hmm. She lets her hands wander down the rest of her body. Collarbones, shoulders, hello cleavage. Her hands cup her new breasts tenderly.

"Interesting," she says.

"Would you like a mirror?" River asks, sounding amused. "Or are you going to be busy exploring yourself for the next few hours?"

"A mirror!" The Doctor bounds out of bed, almost toppling over before she gets her stride back. Her weight's distributed all differently, and she's still out-of-sorts from the regeneration anyway, wisps of time energy coming off her skin. She's shorter than she used to be, and her trousers don't fit properly anymore. She leans in close to the mirror to peer at herself critically. "Not bad. Not great." She runs her hands down her sides. Hips! Those are new. Well, she's always had hips, but never like these. And her backside is much more rounded than it used to be. She pirouettes in front of the mirror, taking it all in. She's a bit skinny for her own liking, honestly. She looks at her reflection again and clutches at her throat in a panic. "My bow tie! But bow ties are cool! But it's men who generally wear them, isn't it?" She pulls it off and turns to River. "I have no idea how to be a woman! I've barely mastered dressing myself as a man according to you and Amy!"

"Oh, sweetie, there's not a special way." River pats her on the shoulder. "There are as many performances of womanhood as there are women. Mind you, there are a few tropes, but I'm not sure you fit any of them." She eyes the Doctor up and down. "Anyway, I think the braces and the tie look quite fetching."

"Can I still wear my braces?" the Doctor asks anxiously.

River rolls her eyes. "Of course you can. You can wear anything you like." She reaches forward and undoes the top two buttons of the Doctor's shirt. "I think it looks better this way, though - it's a bit snug all done up. What's got you all a-flutter, anyway? It isn't as if you haven't regenerated before."

"I've never been a woman before!" The Doctor runs her hands nervously through her hair. "I've been a man for a thousand years! I know all the rules of being a man! Now I'll have to use a different toilet!"

"Calm down, my love," River says patiently. "Honestly, for an advanced species, you can be so very behind the times. Have you not spent all these years around women? You know loads of women. It's not as if we're an alien species. Anyway, rules about how to perform your gender are so twentieth century. These are fluid concepts. You don't need a permit or a special codeword."

The Doctor scoffs. "There are always rules. For an archaeologist, you don't know much about people."

River sighs. "See there," the Doctor points out, "if we were both men, I think you'd be entitled to punch me for that."

"No, I wouldn't," River says. "That's idiotic." She raises her voice, speaking to the TARDIS instead of to the Doctor. "She's still your beautiful idiot, you see? Emphasis on the second part, although the new figure is really working out well." She ogles the Doctor until the Doctor has to blush and look away.

"I'll always be her idiot," the Doctor snaps. "A few things in this universe are constant." She pauses a moment. "Oh, good heavens. I'm not going to... _menstruate_ , am I?"

"We'll hope the curse of sterility takes care of that as well," River says. "Taking you shopping for feminine hygiene products would no doubt be unbearable. On the plus side, I know a doctor in the fifty-first century who'll do you a lovely implant if necessary."

The Doctor stops trying to figure out how to cross her arms across her breasts and claps her hands to her groin. "Oh. It's gone."

"At least that wasn't the first thing you thought of." River's voice is heavy with sarcasm. "But if you really miss it terribly, they do some wonderful things with synthetic flesh and silicone on the pleasure planet. Or I could get one myself," she adds, her eyes bright. "Think of the possibilities, my love."

"My life really is very strange sometimes," the Doctor says haughtily to no one in particular, moving her hands. "I'm sure I'll get used to it in time. It's not _bad_. It's just different. A millennium as a man - really now, give me a few minutes to get used to this? It's bad enough dealing with a new body, but now it's got all different features."

"Wonderful," River says. "Take yourself out for a test drive, then."

The Doctor tries crossing her arms again, then putting her hands on her hips, then putting them in her pockets, then crossing her arms again. "Please teach me to be a woman," she pleads with River. "Please. I don't even know how to stand."

"I keep telling you," River says. "You can do what you like. Anyone who tells you otherwise isn't worth knowing. Essentializing and codifying what are, for the most part, socially constructed behaviors is...." She stops at the miserable look on the Doctor's face. "Oh, all right. I'll try. But I want you to know I disagree with the whole notion."

"You have hallucinogenic lipstick," the Doctor points out. "That seems like a woman thing."

"Yes," River says irritably, "but neither it nor any of my clothes actually _require_ you to have two or more X chromosomes if you want to put them on."

"Still, they accentuate your characteristics," the Doctor says. "I noticed that. Frequently. And you can't pretend you haven't taken advantage of that at times. You have an effect on people."

"I've already said I'd teach you what I could," River tells her. "Besides, it doesn't have to be men that I'm affecting."

"Men do find you attractive, though," the Doctor says. "Especially in that black thing with the zip up the front." She mimes the silhouette of the suit and the extent to which the zip succeeds in securing the fabric over River's chest.

"Yes, all right, it's designed to make me attractive," River says irritably. "But not just to men. And it's more comfortable than it looks. When we're done, you can have your own catsuit. Which you could have had before, though it might have fit a little oddly, you're right."

"What should we do first?" the Doctor asks.

"First of all, my love, when you cross your arms, they might as well go under your breasts. Try it that way. You just look terribly uncomfortable." River rearranges the Doctor's arms slightly, making the Doctor's breasts tingle at the touch, and nods as the Doctor manages to wedge everything together in a way that feels almost normal. "Tomorrow we'll take you shopping. You'll need a good solid bra, what with all the running. Perhaps we'll get you some silky lingerie as well - that'll add to your feeling of womanhood, no doubt," she adds sarcastically.

"How should I walk?" the Doctor asks. "It just feels...weird! It feels weird! I can't even walk!"

"Oh, put one foot in front of the other," River says, and the Doctor glares at her. "All right. Show me."

The Doctor wanders across the room, feeling conspicuous.

"You don't have to bow your legs like that anymore," River points out. "And you've got hips. Let them move. You're too stiff - you're going to strain something." She comes over and puts her hands on the Doctor's hips from behind. She pushes the Doctor's left hip down and nudges her right knee from behind with her own knee. Then it's the right hip and the left knee. The Doctor tries to concentrate on walking rather than on River's familiar body pressed up against her own brand-new one. "Better?"

"Better," the Doctor says. It's a bit like walking on the pirate ship was, actually; it's easier to get around if she gives in to the motion. It's not impossible to walk the way she was going about it, but it feels better this way. Besides, she likes leaning against River, rubbing her shoulders against River's breasts. She reaches around and slides her hand down the small of River's back and the curve of River's backside.

"Concentrate, sweetie," River murmurs in her ear. "Although, now that I think of it, that might be the best way of all to teach you how to be a woman." She kisses the Doctor's earlobe and the Doctor shivers. "There's an experience that really _is_ different. All-new equipment."

"Show me," the Doctor says, and her voice gets surprisingly throaty when she's turned on. "Show me how a woman makes love."

"Oh, my darling Doctor," River purrs, "all this time I've _been_ showing you. Perhaps you were distracted." She unbuttons the rest of the Doctor's shirt and unsnaps her braces with such excruciatingly slow movements that the Doctor thinks she will go mad, especially since River plants a leisurely kiss on the exposed skin every time she frees a button. The Doctor is fumbling with River's clothes; well, she's never been terribly graceful in any incarnation.

Fortunately, River's got grace enough for the both of them, and she's an expert at how to touch the Doctor's new curves. She skims her fingers over the Doctor's hips and palms the Doctor's breasts, squeezing harder than the Doctor would have thought would feel good, but the pressure is incredible. The Doctor's skin tingles and she can't help moaning a little. She rolls her hips against River's and it's so very, very strange _not_ to feel the familiar bulge in her now ill-fitting trousers.

"Not like that," River murmurs. She slides an arm around the Doctor's hips, pressing the Doctor up against her. "There."

The Doctor's eyes go wide and then narrow as she rocks her hips against the jut of River's, finding that one perfect spot. "Is that what that feels like?"

"Oh, sweetie, just wait," River promises. "We haven't even gotten you out of those trousers yet."

It doesn't take long for River to make that happen, fortunately, because the Doctor is too dazed by all the new sensations to remember how trousers function. She cups her own breasts as River does the zip and tugs the Doctor's trousers off. The Doctor flicks her thumbs over her nipples, just to see how it feels: it isn't as if she hasn't done this before, after all - she just hasn't done it to _herself_. The angles are a little different, for a start, and before she can think too much about that, River's on her knees in front of the doctor, nudging the Doctor's knees apart. The Doctor leans back against the first thing she finds, which fortunately happens to be a table, rather than nothing, but just the feeling of River's breath against her thighs is enough to turn the Doctor's legs to jelly that won't hold her up.

"I'm glad you're so flexible," the Doctor gasps.

"Oh, my love," River purrs. "I'm like the TARDIS. I adore you in all your ridiculous forms, and this one's much nicer than some. You'll never be rid of me. Now hold still."

River's fingers slide between the Doctor's new folds and ah, if the Doctor relished the slickness of River under his fingers (when she was a he), it's nothing compared to the feeling of River exploring the Doctor's own brand new wetness. River's fingers probe and tease and the Doctor shivers and quivers and moans and it's _good_ to be a woman. She's used to all the blood rushing to her prick, the urge to thrust overwhelming, but now her hips open and her whole body melts at River's touch, the pleasure spreading out rather than narrowing down. River nuzzles at the Doctor's hips and thighs, barely grazing the Doctor's skin with her lips as her fingers explore the Doctor's folds. The Doctor murmurs with pleasure; her body tingles and crackles all over, charged by River's touch.

When River's tongue caresses the Doctor's clit, the Doctor's whole body jerks as if an electric shock has passed through her. Golden time energy fizzes from her skin. Her back arches, her fingers curl in the covers, and her head presses hard into the pillows. "Does that always feel like that?" she gasps. "For a woman?"

"When you're sleeping with me, it does," River promises, a wicked smile on her face.

"Nnngh," the Doctor says inarticulately as River returns her attentions to the Doctor's newly minted, incredibly sensitive bits. River presses one solid forearm into the Doctor's hips, holding her down; her other hand wanders up the Doctor's suddenly ticklish ribs and slides over the Doctor's breast. It's so different and so new and so _female_ : the Doctor is acutely aware of the swell of her breasts and backside, the new ecstasy when River pinches her nipples, the curve of her hips and the weight of her thighs under River's touch. She's used to thrusting instead of rolling, a broadness to her shoulders where they shove into the bed, an incongruence between her body and River's. It's different from Jack or the Master, too, the tucked-away memories of several bodies ago; now the wiring of her nerves is rerouted and even her concept of receptiveness reimagined. River's mouth is incredibly slippery against her cunt (and she likes the word now, likes the power and depth of it) and the Doctor doesn't even have words to describe the sensation of it. Fabuliciousplencredible. Extralightfuloverwonderment. Then all thoughts leave her head and it's only pleasure, only joy, only brightness. River sucks hard at the Doctor's clit and somehow that helps; they ride out the tremors together.

"Good heavens," the Doctor says, draping one arm over her eyes.

"It's only just begun," River promises. She eases her way up the Doctor's body, kissing up the Doctor's front, taking the Doctor's breast briefly into her mouth before nipping at the Doctor's collarbones and neck and finally, finally landing on her mouth. Oh, kissing: it should be the same, especially kissing River, who's never hesitated to take charge, but the shape of her jaw is different now and she doesn't have to worry about rasping River's tender skin with stubble. River's mouth tastes of the Doctor and the Doctor kisses her eagerly, melting under River's touch. She doesn't have to yield, she knows, but she _wants_ to. It's a freedom she hasn't always had. For so long she's been a Time Lord, and though River's right and it's really no different to be a Time Lady, she wants it to _feel_ different for now. She's known powerful women, splendid women, and admired the way they gained or ceded control; she wants River to teach her to be straightforward and serpentine all at once, or maybe that's just in bed. She wants to be Woman with a capital W, ageless, flawless, a Platonic ideal that has nothing to do with the day-to-day of humanity at all, much less Plato's idea of what a woman should be, that hidebound git. She wants the cliché tonight. She wants all the experiences; she wants to be heavy with child and doubled over by cramps and she wants to wear short skirts and makeup and be someone else when she changes her hairstyle. She wants to _feel_ like a woman. New mouth, new rules indeed.

And it starts with kissing. And it doesn't stop. River's hips notch perfectly against the Doctor's as River nudges with her thigh, and then, oh, as the Doctor whispers to gods no one has believed in for millennia, River's cunt slides against the hers and it's perfect. It's almost painful at moments, bone under thin skin rubbing bone under thin skin, but the discomfort is worth it, sharpening the pleasure. It's sublime. It's heat and wetness; it's perfection; it's friction and smoothness and too much and never enough and the Doctor's fingers are digging into River's strong back trying to pull her closer.

When she was a man, sex had another dynamic altogether, and it didn't matter whether he was in charge of it or not, or who was sharing his bed. Jack made almost a joyous battle out of sex; with Rose it was all play and the one time with Madame de Pompadour was like an erotic lesson, but it wasn't like this. This is womanhood, this give and take, this option to receive while sacrificing nothing. She startles herself with the noises she makes: hungry, demanding, imperious moans that seem to stir River to even greater effort as her hips rock against the Doctor's. She grinds down against the Doctor's already sensitive clit and the Doctor clutches at her like she'll come to pieces if she can't hold on to River.

"It's all right, sweetie," River gasps between moans of her own. Her hair and her eyes are wild and the Doctor thinks she has never been so beautiful. She cups River's breasts, squeezing like River did before, and the flush on River's cheeks spreads. River groans and bears down harder right where the Doctor wants her most. She honestly can't tell where River's skin ends and her own begins and she wants to live in this moment forever, in the slick hot continuum of their bodies.

River arches her back and rolls her hips and oh.

The Doctor shrieks, completely undone, her body shaking apart and a wisp of time energy unfurling between her lips. River, on top of her, shifts and presses her hips hard against the Doctor's, nearly painful; the Doctor sobs with pleasure and bites her lip, her body tensing in one last paroxysm as River throws her head back and shouts. River collapses on top of the Doctor, the sweat on their bodies turning their skins into one complete circuit of feeling, of loving, of knowing.

She sighs in delighted satiation and pulls River closer. It's _good_ to be a woman. Multiple orgasms are only the start, she suspects. Oh yes, she's going to enjoy this regeneration a great deal. And she knows this much: she can't wait to fuck her wife.

  


* * *


End file.
